Pets in Books

In the course of my life, I’ve shared my home with four dogs, eight cats, and one dog in a cat’s body. I don’t know if that makes me a dog person or a cat person, all I know is that I live in the country where coyotes, mountain lions, and other dangers mean that to have a pet now I would need to take supervised outdoor walks with them which my knees no longer let me do. And it’s even questionable if that would be enough to ensure my fur-babies safety; one of the cats was taken in broad daylight in a lightning-fast snatch as she preceded my husband out to the back patio where he routinely enjoyed morning coffee while she enjoyed napping on warm sunlit bricks.

It’s not bad living petless in the country as I do, though. I share my country home with scurrying bluebelly lizards, hummingbirds that sip water as I sprinkle my garden, foxes who bring their babies to visit, ravens who recognize me and perform arial shows as synchronized as the Blue Angels, and even a bobcat who is so friendly she lets me sit outside with her while she baths. Those creatures are special, certainly, but I do still miss my dogs and cats and I have many deep recollections of their quirks, foibles, and some of the adventures we shared.

To honor them, I have found a way to keep those memories alive by introducing lost pets in my books. In my Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries series, Sophie and Granite are mentioned regularly and some of the other cats make cameo appearances.

But I decided that wasn’t enough for me, so when I began to write the PIP Inc. Mysteries series, I made my Dalmatian Freckles (she was part of a long line of show dogs and her official registered name was Dama Pecosa) my protagonist Pat Pirard’s Dalmatian Dot while my real ginger cat Lord Peter Wimsey became ginger cat Lord Peter Wimsey in the books.

Those of you who have shared your lives with furry critters know they all have distinctive personalities; it didn’t take much for me to use my pets as characters in the books. Freckles came to my rescue more than once. In my younger years, I worked in a small library that, except for one two-hour overlap, was staffed by one librarian. We were open nights and I often worked alone until 9:00. A man started coming into the library whenever there weren’t any patrons inside complaining about the heat. He would start to disrobe and suggest that I should, too.

I was told if I was ever in trouble I was to call the main library, identify where I was and tell the person on the other end, “Tell Mercedes her book is here.” That was code for call the sheriff and send help immediately. Unfortunately, when I tried it, all I got in response was, “Who is Mercades and which book do you mean?”

My two-hour job share person was married to a deputy sheriff who tried to stake out the library, but the disrober remained elusive. Finally, in desperation, I decided to take Freckles to work with me. The librarian on duty sat behind a high counter on a bar-height chair. I looped Freckles’ leash handle under one of the legs of the chair and told her to lay down. She behaved perfectly, mostly napping as patrons came and left. That is until the man came in.

I still don’t know if she picked up on a vibe from him or sensed my fear, but within seconds, she was on top of the counter, teeth bared, snarling at him, and tugging at the leash. He never came back.

Usually, she was a sweet dog. Neighborhood kids would ask if she could come out to play. I knew what she was capable of, though, and wrote her into “The Funeral Murder” as the hero/defender she was under her spotted coat.

Wimsey gets his due in the books as well. The live Wimsey was a defender of his harem and took care of and older, smaller male, too. I never doubted he would defend me should he need to, never mind how aloof he might seem most days. He got his chance to defend my protagonist in “The Funeral Murder,” too.